Eyes of Love
by itsrainin9
Summary: As Severus dies from Naigini’s bite, he lays there thinking about Harry, his love.


Title: Eyes of Love  
Genre: Hurt/Angst  
Pairing: HP/SS  
Rating: NC-17

Words: 1217  
Summary: As Severus dies from Naigini's bite, he lays there thinking about Harry, his love.  
Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I only play with them.  
Author's note: It started with a phrase I'd written, and eventually turned into my third HP/SS story.

**Do not read unless you are fine with slash, or male/male pairing.**

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_He captivated me from the moment I first saw him._

_And I fell in love with him, despite all odds._

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It's funny how memories of your life flashes by when you lay there, dying. I'd never believed that such things would've happened, but it did. I lay there, recalling moments of my life.

I still remember the day when I first met him. He was so young, his green eyes filled with wonder as he gazed around the Hall, mesmerised. I was captivated by the innocence of his movements, and I noticed that every time magic was performed, his eyes would turn wide, enchanted and almost as if he was unable to believe that he was really there at Hogwarts. I couldn't believe that he was there either, but he hadn't heard of me. I had. I'd heard all about him from the moment he was born, who then went on to survive a killing curse.

I'd never seen him, though, but I'd expected him to look like a Potter, proud and arrogant like James, ready to rule the school as though he were a king. He'd looked like his father with his messy jet black hair all over the place, but the demeanor I'd been expecting was not there. Where was that insufferable smirk that was supposed to be on his face? I hated him for captivating me, mesmerizing me, being so good and pure and untainted. I hated him. He was a reminder of the fact that I was ugly, broken and tainted with evil. He was a reminder of everything I'd done wrong. Losing my only friend in a pique of fit through angry words, the telling of the Prophecy to Riddle and then causing Lily's death; it was like he was sent from the grave by Lily to haunt me, torment me. The absence of Potter and Lily were felt all the more stronger with Harry's existence. So as he tormented me by being around, by being a reminder of all the mistakes I'd made, I gave tit for tat. I made his life miserable. The chokehold of torment lessened, just a little, whenever I saw his face crumple in misery, whenever I managed to make him suffer just as much as he made me.

I did not know when I first fell in love with him. Perhaps it was when I'd learnt from his memories that his life had not been the life of a young prince, but more like that of an abused dog who didn't even get the scraps of food from leftovers, I was stunned. When I'd seen the life he had led in the home of his relatives, I was angry. Both at myself, and at Dumbledore. I could barely taunt him without his memories flashing through my head; could barely summon the hate that had sustained me with fuel for my cutting remarks. Why had I not asked Dumbledore what had happened to Lily's son? Why had Dumbledore even placed the boy there, locked away from the day of light, not knowing of the world that he belonged to?

What was I to do now? He was not the boy I'd thought to be, and yet he still came back standing tall, put through tasks that no child should ever have to go through. Facing Voldemort again, and again, and always coming back the survivor. Maybe when I'd started observing him more I realised that he was always alone, despite the gaggle of gossiping beasts and reckless dunderheads that surrounded him. I knew what it was like, to be alone. I could tell that even the Granger girl and Weasley red head did not understand the horrors that Harry'd been through. Few could understand; then again, none came back from meeting Voldemort unchanged. I gave him dentention during lessons that day, and made him clean up cauldrons. And then he came back, the next day, and then the next, and then finally he was always spending time with me in the dungeons, either cleaning up the classroom or doing some mundane task I'd set him to. At some point he started talking, and he talked to me about his fears of facing Voldemort, his worries that he wouldn't do it right. I never answered, choosing to let him talk them out, but somehow he'd learned to intepret my silences, and our conversations, though strange, were welcomed by both.

And then one night he did not arrive at my dungeons, so I went out in search of him. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon him in the astromony tower, crying by himself, that I could hardly believe what happened next. He came to me, seeking comfort, and I could not resist his kiss. But I had to push him away. I pushed him away as soon as I had regained my senses. I snarled at him, but he only smiled as he put his arms around my neck, head lying against my chest. I told him he could not come down to the dungeons anymore. But he still came anyway. He always did, as though he knew that I'd never be able to keep him away for long, breaking all the rules like he always did.

He was a young man now, his frame filled by years of Quidditch practice, muscles toned and bronzed from hours of training. He was almost as tall as me, and I remember the day when I'd finally given in to his advances. I remember the hours we'd spent making love, his body fitting against mine, the colours of our skin contrasting sharply. Bronzed olive against pale sallow skin. I loved him, and I knew that I would have given anything for him, and done anything to protect him. Protecting him like the way I had been doing for years, loving him like the way I'd been doing for years.

Eventually the war reached its apex. He'd finished his mission, the one he was given when he naught but a baby, killing Riddle who died a mortal without the aid of his horcruxes. As for me, I laid there dying from Naigini's bite, my task complete, to win the war and protect the young man I'd come to love. I'd closed my eyes, ready to find Lily in the afterworld and tell her, tell her that I'd protected her son, and had loved him with all my heart. I was ready to go into the darkness, only to find Harry shaking me awake, begging me to stay alive, begging me not to leave him alone. Harry. My Harry. My Harry with the bright green eyes of love. His eyes were always filled with love. I tried, I did, I really tried my best to stay awake, tried my best to stay alive. But it was too late. The venom had spread and there was nothing in the world now that would have saved me. So I gave Harry my memories, and before I finally entered the darkness, I said the words I'd never said to him before.

"I love you."


End file.
